


all the world's a stage and we're burning it down

by bellygunnr



Series: complacency [5]
Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X, Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fights, Gen, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellygunnr/pseuds/bellygunnr
Summary: A study inspired by The Megas' new song, Rogumer Storm. X battles Storm Eagle high above the city, while the citizens watch.
Series: complacency [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/847860
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	all the world's a stage and we're burning it down

The  _ Death Rogumer _ was not a large airship, but it was imposing in its own right. It glided through the air under a quarter of its power, ponderous at such a slow speed, clad in a royal purple and burnished gold regalia. Its name was inscribed along its bow which bulged out beneath the sword-like figurehead, a deadly aerial rapier. A giant lens, a contraption of glass and steel, rotated, extending, shifting until it could view the sprawling city unobstructed. The ship banked, rolling so gently in the air, exposing the electric cannons stationed on its slim upper deck. Steam hissed out from their rounded chassis as their barrels extended; red lights flashed for as long as the cannons turned to position, glowing solid green when their mark was found.

Their target was an elegant, conical skyscraper that made the city's skyline iconic, a legendary silhouette recognized by many. Its glass face shattered in the brutal wake of the cannon-barrage. More than plasma ammunition, shards burst from the half-ton shells, raining fire on the city below. These embers floated, descending, skipping through the air as the wind took them, then latched onto the ground and neighboring buildings, singular burning cinders where they did not ignite what was below them. Above, the skyscraper shuddered, failing to regain its strength when another two-gun barrage assaulted its broken flanks.

Its assailant circled the beaten structure, engines burning low and steady. The  _ Death Rogumer _ no longer lumbered, but sauntered through the air, a circling shark awaiting the next opportunity to bite. Fire from the city below washed its sleek hull in a flickering orange glow. It banked again, settled onto an even keel-- and exploded.

A fin on its starboard side burst apart from the inside. The explosion rocked the airship simultaneously with cannon fire-- the combined inertia saw the ship plummet, flaming from its open hull, a main engine going up with it. Yet, as quickly as the inferno began, all was smothered, choked out by thick white foam and a flood of emergency drones from within. The  _ Death Rogumer _ shuddered violently, shaking off the wound, and struggled into a climb. 

The ascent was slow. It clawed its way back to a cool, safe three thousand, above the skyscraper which was now collapsing in on itself, and above the city, terrified but alive. There was a pronounced list to the airship. The repair drones broke from their duties to latch onto the battered decks, miniature motors whining, straining, a dozen or so contributors against a starboard tilt. The airship heaved.

The airship limped. 

-

While the center of the city burned, the rest ground to a standstill. Jumbo-Trons and billboards flickered, the now-familiar warning message disappearing. The repetitive emergency instructions played alongside city sirens died down to a low, vibrating buzz, an oppressive hum that choked the ears and numbed the brain. The sound permeated the tons of concrete and steel as to be felt in the bones of various underground shelters.

One such shelter thrummed ominously. Marcus looked up from his book, eyes flicking from his companions to the open doorway to the television screen, suddenly alive with static. He watched it apprehensively, wincing when the intercom system blared. The speakers clicked rapidly, like gunshots.

The thrum died down. The shelter stopped shaking, as did their bones, and the screen warped colorfully. When it recovered, Marcus was staring at slightly grainy footage--

"That's the airship! It has to be!" Marcus cried, shocked. The airship had been popular before the Maverick War; its decks were as familiar to him as they were to Storm Eagle. "What's happening? How are they doing this?"

The footage flickered. When it returned, it was much clearer, and audio tuned in with it. Whistling gales played over the intercom, but Marcus found it as abrasive as the feedback, if not worse. 

-

The explosion had knocked X into a titanium door, jamming up his shoulder. The damaged joint creaks and grinds in his ear as he clambers up a narrow ladder chute, pushing himself off the upper rung and onto the ship's prow. A shadow is already cast across the deck and he's mildly glad for it-- the sun is blazing overhead, bright and uncaring. He knows it would have blinded him if not for the ship's secondary rudder.

_ It also helps that Storm Eagle is the one blotting out the sun _ , X thinks dimly. 

The former Commander holds himself aloft, a combined effort between gallant purple wings and dual shoulder-mounted rockets. He's intimidating, always has been, but now he also makes X feel sickened-- this is not the same Reploid he met as a rookie Maverick Hunter.

_ But it is _ , a voice whispers.  _ You don't know if he was infected or merely defected. _

X shakes off the thought.

"You've damaged the  _ Death Rogumer _ . You must know that we'll be lucky to crash land outside of city limits, yes?" Storm Eagle calls, his voice reedy, a thin whistle to it. "No matter. The only acceptable death is one found in combat!"

Storm Eagle dives down. The sun flares out, brilliant, and X's face aches as his optics work double time to compensate. He dashes across the deck, clearing it in one, but as he twists around to face his adversary, he's already within seconds of blowing him away. X stumbles more than rolls out of the way as Storm Eagle's wings threaten to cleave him in two.

When he pops back up, it is with his buster blazing, yellow plasma tracking Storm Eagle across the platform. He sights crackles of satisfying smoke; his buster hums, residual plasma beginning to gather around the mouth of the barrel.

"I see you've improved!" Storm Eagle says, laughing, a sound punctuated by chirps. "But you're still just a rookie."

-

The first attack had been close. Marcus paws at hands grasping his arm, prying the clutch grip off. He can feel his heartbeat in his chest, an overwhelming sense of anxiety stealing him. None of this moment made sense-- the footage, the rattling terror in their bones, or the clash of Reploids above a burning city.

It didn't make sense.

But it was hope.

-

The charged shot is timed well, in X's opinion. Storm Eagle's gale rips across the platform, plying at the tips of his boots as he leaps above the focused stream, but his shoulder jolts at the recoil. The shot, aimed for the other's open chest, flies wide. X hardly has time to brace himself as he falls back into the wind tunnel, fingers tearing at metal.

The gust dissipates around him. X slumps against the deck, relieved, but is violently reminded of his situation when massive, vice-like talons clamp around his torso. His skeleton creaks as Storm Eagle squeezes and lofts him into the air.

"Perhaps this is dishonorable, but you left yourself open, Maverick Hunter X!"

His body lurches, and then there is nothing but open air and pain. 

-

Marcus cries out in alarm as he watches the battle. Had it been too much to hope? Had their naivety tipped the scales out of the blue Reploid's favor? It was agonizing. X fell through the sky, disappearing from view in only seconds, but it felt like years.

"He can't die here! We need you, X!" Marcus exclaims, but it was mostly to himself.

-

X descends, but not as far as God or Storm Eagle intended him to. 

He descends, but his body is skidding the surface of the wounded _ Death Rogumer _ , and it's enough for his boots to find purchase. With no small amount of strain, X kicks against the bruised hull of the ship and goes the only direction available to him-- up.

-

Storm Eagle is walking off the platform at a casual stride. Grief and dread sit heavy in Marcus' heart. It sits heavy in all their hearts.

"He's not dead, he can't be. We need him," someone says, and Marcus can't help but agree, bowing his head. 

"He's not dead! Look! Mega Man!" 

-

X walks across the deck unopposed-- for the most part. He fights the slanting, listing deck, his eyes hardening as he understands this to be a ship in her death throes. His time was running out.

"Storm Eagle!" X shouts, throwing his arms wide open, gasping as his shoulder wrenches. "I lived! Can't we work something out?"

The former Commander turns, one hand on the door to the ship's cabin. His beak drops open in surprise, eyes wide underneath his golden mask. X stares back unflinchingly, knowing that he must be quite a sight.

"No one has to die," X continues, plaintive. 

The  _ Death Rogumer _ groans. 

"What of Chill Penguin, then?" Storm Eagle replies. 

-

The fight is on again. 

The fight is knife's edge close, a toe-to-toe stand between a stowaway and a corsair. 

The camera shakes sometimes, revealing how bad off the ship is in fits and bursts. Marcus watches Storm Eagle make sweeping dives at X, but each time he zooms away, a feather is plucked, shearing off in a smoldering heap. 

"He's doing so much better!" 

"He must have found his stride..."

"You can do this, X! Mega Man!"

-

X goes up in light. When the light fades, his armor is a paler hue, bodysuit a bold yellow. He continues to track Storm Eagle across the sky, pacing the platform, buster vibrating with a suppressed charge shot. 

He watches as the Eagle wings around, flight now a wobbly, barely sustained trajectory toward his target. It's enough for X to level his buster, optics shrinking as he locks in-- the small of Storm Eagle's back, the rocket pack--

Arctic cold floods X's circuits as he looses his shot. A barbed mound of ice soars through the air, followed by a rapid-fire burst of ice shards. 

The  _ Death Rogumer _ shudders underfoot. 

X's feet slide out from under him.

Storm Eagle crashes unceremoniously into the stern of his own flagship. 

-

"He got him! X did it!" 

"He did it! X really is a Mega Man!"

-

The  _ Death Rogumer _ breaks apart. X finally plummets, his body going slack as he clears the fractured deck.

If the camera aboard the ship had still been rolling, then all those watching could have seen Mega Man X weep. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun to write. I hope you like it, too! You can find me here!


End file.
